


Talk To Me

by CeaselessCow2011



Series: The Magnus Archives: Barely Canon [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, He/Him and They/Them Pronouns for Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jon's Grandmothers A+ Parenting, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Has ADHD, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Has Autism, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Has a Bad Time, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Needs a Hug, Martin Blackwood Has a Crush on Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Neurodivergent Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:28:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28605237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeaselessCow2011/pseuds/CeaselessCow2011
Summary: Martin hits a nerve, Jon infodumps about childhood trauma, and Martin still loves his little he/they anyway.
Series: The Magnus Archives: Barely Canon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986040
Kudos: 71





	Talk To Me

Three knocks. Just three, light, small knocks. It's so easy, or at least, it should be. But then again, Jon doesn't want to see Martin. He doesn't want to see anyone, for that matter. But maybe that just doesn't matter right now. Martin can't recall the last time he's seen Jon eat or drink or even get an ounce of rest, and it's getting to an overwhelmingly concerning point. It scares Martin more than flesh-eating silvery worms. The last thing he wants is to find another dead body. So he knocks. What should've been his normal soft three knocks quickly became three firm, loud knocks that sounded confident and direct, something Martin wasn't usually so good at.

Jon barely has the energy to deal with this. Whoever is at the door will only be witnessing their existence for a few minutes, they were sure. "Come in." His voice sounded distant. Was it even his voice? Oh, no matter. Why bother on that, it's obviously not time to think about himself. Obviously his thoughts should consist only of his work. After all, he's only been causing problems. He needs this punishment. Well, it didn't used to be a punishment, that is, until Prentiss happened. Before then, Jon's work was a simple distraction from everything else in life. But now it was a punishment, for being too annoying. For being too much. For being too petulant. Too bothersome. Too loathsome. Too draining. The list seemed to go on.

Martin came in with a sort of feeling in his heart that could only be described as a powerful, passionate sort of feeling. He was so sick of this. He wasn't sick of Jon, but more so just sick of the fact that there wasn't much he could do to help Jon. So when he came into Jon's office, he didn't have his usual shyness to him. "Hey, I made you some food, and some tea. Haven't seen you take care of yourself at all recently, this is the least I could do, really."

Without hesitation, Jon brushed it off. "Thank you Martin, goodbye now." The distant, cold voice came back. They didn't like how it sounded, hearing themself speak, being so aware of how they talked. It felt disconnected. This just wasn't him. Or maybe that was the sleep deprivation talking, who knows.

Martin set down the food and drink on the desk. He had made curry rice for Jon, had made it all from scratch, had poured his heart into this. Hours of his free schedule had been spent prepping and chopping and cooking. He wasn't about to let it go to waste. He stood a moment, watching Jon, waiting for something. Waiting for Jon to at least look and see what Martin had done. But Jon just went back to work. Martin cleared his throat.

Jon looked up at him. "Was there something else you needed?"

A loud sigh escaped Martin. "I just- I just want you to take a break. Look. I made you some curry rice and some tea. Please just eat. Just this once." Martin could feel frustration bubble up in his stomach and rise to his chest. He was so frustrated. He just wanted Jon to take care of himself and he didn't know why he wasn't doing it himself. 

Jon immediately shook his head. “Can’t you see I’m busy, Martin? I can’t accept this.” They made an excuse, which they knew wasn’t okay, but then again, this was the punishment. More work. No time for food, no time for drink, not like he deserved it anyway.

“Jon, why can’t you just accept this! It’s really not that hard!”

“Yes it is!” They blurted out. Once the words left Jon’s mouth, he saw Martin go quiet. The silence felt sharp. Instead of waiting for Martin’s reaction, he decided he needed to fill the silence with work. He’s said too much and now he needs more punishments. He sighed. “Just. Just go.” Their face felt like it was burning. This wasn’t okay. They didn’t want this embarrassment of saying too much. Especially to Martin.

“Jon… I’m sorry, but I’m not going to leave.” Martin was stubborn, yes, but he needed to do this. He didn’t want to think of what would happen if he didn’t stay. He sat down across from Jon. “You need help. I want to give you that help you deserve, Jon. Now, can you listen a second?”

Something in Martin’s voice compelled Jon to do what he said. It wasn’t in a forceful tone, or even a frustrated one. It was soft and gentle, with no malice to be seen. Hesitantly, Jon nodded.

“Thank you.” Martin said, smiling softly. Even though he was frustrated, he wasn’t about to show it to Jon. They obviously needed Martin to be gentle. “Now, you said that it was hard for you to accept this. Could you tell me why? You have my promise that I will not tell anyone, and I won’t judge you. You can trust me.” He spoke a little slowly, his approach slow and methodical, like trying to get a scared, feral cat to trust you.

It took several moments for Jon to begin speaking. “Um…” They had to remind themselves that they were okay. Martin wouldn’t betray his trust. “I need to punish myself somehow, after all I-”

“What?! Jon, you shouldn’t be stripping yourself of things you need to survive, that’s not healthy at all!”

“...As I was saying, it’s what I deserve for being too annoying and causing problems.”

“What- No! Jon, you don’t deserve to be starving yourself! Why do you think this? Why do you think you deserve this? And no saying that you’ve been ‘too annoying’.”

“Well, where do I begin? I mean, I suppose you could say that it’s due to the fact that this is how my life has been for the past… Oh, twenty-five years now?” He felt as if he was giving Martin a statement now, but he couldn’t stop going once he had started. He felt compelled to keep going. The words all just fell out of him in a flowing stream. “See, by the time I was five, my parents had both died. My father had died when I was two, and my mother followed suit a few years later. When I was orphaned, I was left with my grandmother. She was a private woman, and kind to most others; She would donate to charities and volunteer her time places. She even made pies every Saturday and Sunday to give out to people. When it came to me, however, that was a different story.

I was a problem child. Often, if I was bored, I would wander off and explore. I’d get lost sometimes while doing so, and the police would have to come find me and take me back. My grandmother had sworn to lock me in the house if I were to do that again, and thus I believed her. The local areas were too boring for me, so I just stayed inside most of the time. To combat the restlessness, I would read. I was never able to read something that felt familiar, and wouldn’t be able to read a single book series, even if I had tried very hard. My grandmother tried very hard to make me read books by the same author, but I just couldn’t. So she had to go through the trouble of getting a huge new selection for me, which was never easy. I would burn through a book within a week or two, and my grandmother would try to get me to stop doing it so much, but I wouldn’t- couldn’t- stop. 

My grandmother even tried to get me to watch things on the telly. After around a half hour, though, I would get bored again, and then go back to my books. She taught me how to cook, which I am thankful about, but it was never much. She sat me in front of a cookbook and told me to just go at it, so I did. That bore me as well. I wasn’t terribly patient, and always needed to be doing something, and that fact made my grandmother very upset. And not to mention that when I had done anything she had deemed wrong, I would ask why I was in trouble specifically, not being able to comprehend what I was being punished for. Whenever she dismissed it and told me to ‘figure it out’ myself, I was quick to talk back at her and tell her to tell me why exactly she had punished me, because I couldn’t understand it for the life of me. She would then send me to my room, telling me I was just too annoying to handle. She said that to me often, oftentimes I would ask her if I could do something and she’d say something to the effect of “Stop bothering me with your nonsense”. So at some point I stopped asking for things. When I stopped asking for things, she seemed happier with me.

We made a system. If I spoke more than ten times per day, I wouldn’t get desert. If I asked two questions, no dinner for the day. So I would be quiet to avoid the punishments. But sometimes they would happen, and thus I would be left to my room the whole day without food or drink. My grandmother said it was what I got for being too much. She would always back it up with a statement of “Whenever you get a job, and you do something bad, you’re going to be punished in far worse ways”, and I believed her. When I was in school, the same rules applied, but it was also then tied to the amount of work I did. If I did not finish all of my homework for a day, no dessert for a week, and if I had anything other than an A in a class, I wouldn’t have dinner for two days.

Once I had gotten into Uni, I stopped the system, but instead unintentionally went in the other direction. If I had done something I deemed bad, like talking too much or asking too many things, I would stuff my face with food. I actually was overweight in Uni, and I had a habit of eating out of punishment, eating out of stress, or even eating out of boredom. Georgie, my girlfriend at the time, saw that I was gaining weight quickly, and asked if I was doing okay, and I had said yes, but she pried and eventually I had told her what I was doing. She then tried to get me to do other things instead, like singing, playing guitar, even just trying to go out with her and play video games or board games or the like. None of it really helped, but by the time I started working for the Institute, I found myself skinnier, as all of my time was spent either studying, having classes, or being around Georgie. So, I once again fell into the system my grandmother and I had laid out. If I hadn’t gotten enough work done that day, I would simply stop taking breaks for food and drink. If I still wasn’t doing enough, or if I was too annoying to others, I would then stop resting, and that would make me work more, so that I would earn the rest and food. 

So, hopefully you can see that since I have been simply too annoying this past while, and given that I probably could have handled the Prentiss incident better, I only think it’s fair that this should be the punishment for all the problems I’ve caused.” 

When Jon stopped speaking, they felt odd. How long had they been talking for? Had they said too much? Oh god, what if Martin knew too much now? Jon felt hot now, a twinge of embarrassment and shame spreading to his face. He looked to Martin.

Martin’s eyes were a bit wide. He looked like he was processing all that Jon had said. “Oh, Jon…” He said softly. He was genuinely concerned for Jon, but he wasn’t really expecting all that came out of their mouth. Martin decided the two would break this down later. For now, they both needed a break. “I’m going to go back to work for a bit. Could you please at least eat half of the food and drink at least half of the tea for me, please? I’ll be back in about an hour, alright? Just… Please take care of yourself. Take a break. No more work for you until I come back. Can you do that for me?”

Jon looked at him for a few moments before nodding. “Yes, I can.”

Martin smiled at them. “Good. I’ll be back. I’ll tell the others to bug me if they need anything. For now, you’re just Jonathan Sims, on a break.”

Jon nodded again, and Martin left the room, closing the door gently behind him. 

They stared at the food for a moment, not knowing what to do. They _could_ just disregard Martin and not eat. They could always just… Go back to work. He sighed and pulled the tea closer and sipped a bit. It tasted wonderful, as it always did. Martin knew just how to make the best tea, and Jon was always grateful for it. The tea was delicious. His stomach growled. He was starving. He needed food in his body and he needed it now. Hesitantly, Jon pulled the food closer. The curry rice Martin had made smelled delicious. Jon could tell he had made this from scratch. With a shaky breath, Jon ate a bite. He instantly fell in love. The dish was so full of multiple flavours that danced on his taste buds in such a perfect way. Needless to say, it didn’t take long before all of the curry rice and all of the tea was gone. He felt full, something he hadn’t felt in too long. Maybe they really did deserve this. He felt happy. He yawned out. He was tired. 

It had only been fifteen minutes since Martin had left the office, and knowing that no one was going to bug him for another forty-five minutes definitely helped him feel more comfortable. They decided to nap on their desk. They pushed their papers and tape recorders and laptop off to the side and buried his face in his arms. They closed their eyes and drifted off into a quick, deep sleep.

When Jon opened his eyes again, Martin was sitting across from him, on his phone. He looked like he was just mindlessly playing on his phone. They looked at him for a moment before sitting up, which caught Martin’s attention. 

“Good morning.”

Jon stretched and yawned. “How long have you been waiting for?”

“Oh, not long. About fifteen, twenty minutes. I didn’t mind waiting.”

“Ah. I see”, Jon started. He looked to the tea and curry rice. The tea had been refilled. “Thank you for the food and drink. I ate and drank all of what you gave me. It was actually really nice…”

This made Martin smile. His heart skipped a beat when Jon complimented him. “Well, yeah, I’m really glad you enjoyed it! I spent a lot of time making it.”

“Your work doesn’t go unnoticed.”

“Thank you! That- That means a lot.” Martin had a small, bashful smile on his face. He cleared his throat. “Ah- right, then- would you like to talk about earlier?”

“Maybe later… Is that alright?” Jon asked, waiting for Martin to say no.

“Of course it’s alright. For now, we can just enjoy some tea together. How does that sound?”

Jon nodded, reaching for his tea. He took a sip of the warm, perfectly delectable tea. He took a deep breath. “Thank you, Martin.”

“Of course. I’ll always be here for you, Jon.”


End file.
